


puppy love

by unseeliekey



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: .....probably some courting stuff later knowing me aaaaaaa, Alternate Universe - High School, Animal Death, Carnival, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sleepovers, Werewolf AU!, Wolf Instincts, non despair; that is, only briefly and you can skip it!!, we r heavy on the pining today, why are the suggested wolf tags here so HORNY please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unseeliekey/pseuds/unseeliekey
Summary: “S-Saihara-chan?”Immediately, the enormous fucking wolf lowers its upper body to the ground and its tail… its tail starts wagging, like a dog who’s just earned a treat, and it opens its mouth and makes this pleased, chuffing sound, that holy shit, Kokichi recognizes.“You’re a werewolf?”(Shuichi's a wolf trying to get through high school, hide his supernatural nature, and never let his best friend discover his crush on him. Kokichi's a cat person with delusions of grandeur who would rather die than let his newly-discovered werewolf pal find out he has feelings for him. Somehow, they survive.)
Relationships: Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, buncha friends - Relationship
Comments: 98
Kudos: 756





	1. teen wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoftCocoa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftCocoa/gifts).



> hi this is inspired by @softcocoa on tumblr's werewolf au art! (https://softcocoa.tumblr.com/tagged/werewolf-au)  
> the way she draws oumasai makes me... so soft. and i adore werewolves! (not in a furry way not in a furry way not in a furry way) i just think that a bf who could turn into a dog would be. pretty neat. also throughout this whole thing i was thinking about how fucking huge wolves are. they are so big. 
> 
> ANYWAY the werewolf au is so cute and her kokichi is so cute and so is her shuichi and i just <3 <3 <3 when i saw it theres so much cute potential. i have ripped some of the lines here directly from her comics bc they were SO GOOD how could i not.  
> this is all fluff except for some of kokichi's internal narrative bc i dont know how to write him not dramatic and a bit angsty im sorry. also i went a little wild with my werewolf #lore.

Shuichi would not consider himself your typical werewolf. In fact, if you were to ask him- well, first he’d probably have a panic attack about getting caught, but it would be followed by a confession that he really doesn’t even know what your typical werewolf looks like.  
He’s aware there are others, of course- his grandfather for one and… maybe his parents? They’ve never confirmed it one way or the other, but it makes sense, right? Unless werewolf genes skip generations, because his uncle can’t shift- so maybe? It’s not exactly like there’s a guidebook.  
Werewolf history is typically kept through oral tradition, both because a group of hunted creatures isn’t going to be exactly keen to write out all the details of their culture, and because werewolves rely heavily on their packs. You’re taught about yourself by your parents, or your elders, your older family, and you grow up with a bunch of siblings, probably out in the country somewhere, and you keep your head down and when the moon comes, you run and hunt and feel your blood pounding, the connection to your family pulsing under your skin.

Unless you’re Shuichi.

Shuichi lives in the city with his uncle, who is human, and no one else. He’s training to be a detective, to use his superior sense for good, and he’s attending an extremely prestigious high school. It is achingly lonely to be a werewolf without a pack, but he makes do- he has his friends, and they’re close enough, even if he has to shut himself away from them during the full moon. Not for their safety- he’s never felt particularly bloodthirsty, usually just… lonely. No, it’s for his, to protect this part of his identity.  
He wants to tell them- obviously. Shuichi hates lying, hates keeping secrets, and usually Ouma can see through all of them. But this is one he’s been keeping for so long that he’s gotten really good at it. Plus, it’s not exactly like it’s an obvious thing to guess. But it still sucks, lying to their faces, telling Akamatsu he can’t make her recital and watching the disappointment in her eyes, having to make excuses to Momota for his recent burst in energy during training and watching him beam in excitement, watching Harukawa tense in brief disappointment as he tells her he needs to go home early, and watching Ouma take him at his word when usually he knows what Shuichi’s feeling before he does.  
Ouma…  
It also particularly sucks having a crush on someone as a werewolf. Shuichi is sure it wouldn’t be so confusing if he didn’t have all these pack-like instincts, this blur of family and love- not in a creepy way, oh god, not in a creepy way. He just…. likes Ouma, _so much._ Wants to be close to him, wants to lean his head on the boy’s lap, wants to rub his hair, wants to press their cheeks together, wants to squish close to him and hold him tight….

Shuichi lifts his head from his pillow and looks over his shoulder to see a tail beating at the back of his legs, thumping about happily. He lifts himself up and covers his face in his hands, burning red. How embarrassing. He usually shifts into a half-way state at home, tail and ears and sharper eyes, because it’s more comfortable than constantly monitoring his body for any sign of change. It does not escape him that he looks a bit like he’s waltzed right off the screen of some fluffy, cheesy anime, especially when his tail is- wagging like this.   
Shuichi groans and flops back down into his blankets. He made an enormous fool of himself at school today. He’d been at lunch with his friends, trying not to look around anxiously because Ouma wasn’t there- was he sitting with Miu again? The thought made Shuichi feel jealous in an awful way, and he’d tried to distract himself with Momota’s latest story of his astronomy class.  
Then he’d felt hands slip over his eyes, someone giggle in his ear. “Guess who!”

It wasn’t a guess. He knew Ouma’s voice like he knew his own, but he couldn’t help scenting the air instinctively, and then-

The hands slipped away from his eyes. Shuichi blinked and found his three friends staring at him, and then Ouma leaning around to stare at him, too. And then he glanced sideways and saw people at the adjoining tables also staring. 

“Dude,” Momota said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Ah, um- yes? W-why?” Shuichi tried to laugh, but they kept staring.

“You made a coughing sound… like you were wheezing or something. It was really odd.” Harukawa told him flatly.

“And loud,” Kaede added, like she was worried about offending him. Shuichi blinked at her, then felt red rising in his face. 

That was not a cough. That was him, chuffing, because he was so pleased to smell Ouma and hear him and be close to him-

Shuichi faked another cough, which wasn’t too hard because he felt kind of like he was choking. “I- yeah, I feel a bit-” He glanced sideways, caught Ouma’s eye: amused, confused, raising an eyebrow. He wheezed again. “I’m just going- I’m going to go find the nurse.”  
And then he’d bolted from the dining hall with a speed that was probably a little suspect for any human, let alone a sick one. 

It’s just because the moon is getting closer, he tells himself. It’s fine, he can control it. He’s been keeping this under wraps for the past seventeen years, and that won’t stop now because he’s fallen in love with his best friend.

“Agh.” He mutters it under his breath as he rolls over again, kicking his legs out. This would be so much easier if he had someone to talk to, but his uncle’s got enough on his plate as it is, and it’s not like he can exactly just go up to Akamatsu and tell her “surprise! I’ve been lying to you since our childhood and I’m only telling you now to see if you know how I can continue to lie to Ouma.”  
Lying to Ouma is an impossible task, and the more Shuichi thinks about it, the more he’s convinced that it’s going to come crumbling down. Ouma is so, so smart, and he lies like it’s second nature, so much that Shuichi wonders if it’s a little bit compulsive. But he’s also brilliant at recognizing lies- it’s one of the reasons Shuichi likes him so much; because when it really comes down to it, Ouma will joke and tease, but he hates deceit that doesn’t serve a purpose. He talks so much about how he hates liars, and if he found out…. Shuichi’s not sure what he’d do. Ouma is an enigma, and usually Shuichi loves that about him, but it makes it so much more difficult to predict his actions. 

His tail thumps on the bed again, just once, and Shuichi sends it a reproachful glare. He’s in it too deep now. He’s just got to do a better job of covering it up- stay calm until the moon and then talk to his uncle when his schedule clears up a bit.

It’ll be fine.

\--

Kokichi’s not stupid. He thinks he’s smart enough to know when something’s up, thank you very much. Especially when something’s up with Saihara.

He’s sitting in the middle of biology after Saihara went home early because he was feeling ill- most people have taken this in stride because of his weird coughing fit earlier that week, but something’s just… off about that whole thing. For one, Kokichi can recognize a fake cough when he hears it, thanks. Saihara’s a decent liar when he tries, but not when he’s nervous. Surely even his dumb friends recognize that.

He glances forward, where the golden trio sit together- Akamatsu, Momota, and little miss assassin-chan. Akamatsu he respects (sometimes, his respect for her is generally tied to how nice and fake she’s being. She at least knows when to put her foot down even if she’s generally so full of sugary shit that it makes him ill to look at her- and Kokichi loves sugar) but the other two he can’t stand. Harukawa is a hypocrite and he doesn’t trust her as far as he can bodyslam her (so, not at all) and Momota is the stupidest, bullshit-hopeful, most foolish person he has ever had the misfortune of running into. And the three of them are always coming up with dumb plans, too- class board game night, bonding exercises that inevitably end in disaster. He hates sitting with them when he hangs out with Saihara- and they’re always taking up so much of his time, too, distracting him with their dumb problems and dragging him away from Kokichi and…

“Ouma!”

He snaps his head away from the offending trio and huffs at Iruma. Having to hang out with her when Saihara is out is a chore, it truly is. “What is it? Do you need someone to mop up the drool on your desk?”

She sniffs, crossing her arms. “You were glaring at Momota’s head like he’d just kicked your newborn baby.”

“And you felt the need to stop me because….?”

Iruma’s face pinches up, and she ducks down to whisper to him. Kokichi makes a big show of recoiling in disgust, but she grabs the back of his collar and pulls him back. “Everyone’s saying that Shit-hara’s sick. Is he?”

“Presumably so, since he went home in second period,” Kokichi drawls, inspecting his nails. “Really, filthy Iruma, if you didn’t spend so much time staring at your own tits, you might notice things like that.”

Predictably, Iruma squeals enough to attract the teacher’s attention and she quickly drops him, her face burning a bright pink. She mumbles apologize as the rest of the class roll their eyes and turn away, and then she kicks him under the table. 

“Ow!” He hisses, ducking under to rub his ankles. “Bitch!”

“Shrimp,” she spits back, then pushes a long streak of hair back over her head. “Anyway, what I was going to say is that he didn’t _look_ sick. He looked like he had plenty of energy, actually. Just… nervous?”

Kokichi, as a rule, never lets Iruma know that he’s taking her seriously, but he does consider her words. He’d thought it was fishy, too, after all. And Saihara has definitely been… weird lately. 

Saihara’s always weird. Over the years, Kokichi has worked on several theories about why that might be- for a period of time he was concerned that Saihara was genuinely delusional and paranoid, but then Saihara started acting normal again and he’d assumed he just had a minor nervous breakdown. Another time, he thought Saihara was terminally ill, because he always seemed to be skipping class and getting fidgety, but after digging through his medical records (don’t ask) he found them squeaky clean. Weirdly so, actually- Saihara was up to date on his shots and stuff, but went to the doctor once a year, if that. And Kokichi had never actually seen him get a cold or something- he just got migraines and stomach aches that took him out of class every so often.   
So Saihara skipping class today and fake coughing at lunch and being weird around Kokichi and trying to keep his distance might just be Saihara being… weird and awkward and going through one of his paranoid phases.  
(Or it might be that he’s finally gotten sick of him. That’s always a possibility, that Saihara will finally have enough of him lying and saying whatever crosses his mind and making a fool of himself and being cruel to their classmates and driving him away. It’s probably going to happen someday, why not now?)

“I’ll go check up on him,” Kokichi decides. He sighs heavily, turning his hand over and looking at his cuticles again. “If you’re so worried, Iruma-chan. What, do you think precious Saihara went on a drug binge?”

Iruma snorts. “He’s going to snap one of these days. No person that anxious can function for too long.”

“Like you can talk,” Kokichi mumbles. He ignores the wave of defensiveness that rises in him and instead flicks Iruma on her forehead. “Wannabe-druggie, no fun at parties, sloppy drunk, embarrassing pig.”

She yanks his hand away, hissing back at him. “You’re just cranky because you miss your weird boyfriend!”

Kokichi smiles at her, bright and winning and all teeth. “Wow, Iruma-chan. You really are delusional, huh? Been reading too much weird porn?”

“Oh please, everyone can tell. He’s the only person you aren’t actively mean to,”

“I’m mean to Saihara-chan all the time!”

Iruma gets a smug, stupid smirk on her face. “You tease him, it’s not the same. You always back off when he gets quiet, like when you took his hat-”

“Shut up,” Kokichi says, then quickly tacks on, “you have no idea what you’re talking about.” The hat incident is something that still makes him feel guilty, four years later. He’s never seen someone pull a pair of puppy eyes like Saihara can. 

Nasty Iruma just smirks at him, low and dirty. “Suuuuuure.”

He reaches under their desk and pinches her thigh until she shrieks. The teacher is less than impressed with her resulting spluttering,(“It was Ouma! Sir, he’s such a bitch, he pinched me- it’s his fault, sir, he’s just a little-”) and ends up sending them both out of the class, which is just fine with Kokichi. Loitering outside the classroom and listening to their peers murmur inside, he swings his satchel over his shoulder. “Welp, I’m off to go visit my ten-thousand member organization,” he says cheerfully. “Watch out, Iruma. They will not be pleased to hear about this.”

“Don’t lie, shithead,” she says, still looking pissed about getting kicked out. “You’re going to go and visit _beloved Saihara-chan.”_ She does the last part in a truly terrible imitation of his voice, all high pitched and nasally.

Kokichi narrows his eyes. “Watch your back, ugly Iruma,” he tells her. “I’m going to have you murdered. And then I’ll get them to dump your body in a public toilet and wait for you to rot.”

“I’m not s-scared of you,” she says, stuttering just a little (is that actual fear or gross arousal? It’s hard to tell with Iruma.) “You’re just a little twink bitch who’s scared to admit he has feelings.”

“Of course I have feelings!” Kokichi plants his hands on his hips. “Like anger. Lots of anger. Rage, betrayal, frustration, bloodlust, murderous intent…”

“Just go find your stupid emo,” she huffs, tossing her hair back. “A gorgeous genius has better things to do than listen to your little gay panic.”

Ha. As if Kokichi has any problem with being gay. He doesn’t discriminate! His fear of intimacy and trust issues seep right into his sexuality, no problem. “See you, pig,” he says, big grin and all. “Try not to give yourself any mysterious infections, okay?”

She flips him off as she turns away, and he sticks his tongue out at her back. Iruma doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

Kokichi likes Saihara because he’s smart and entertaining and calls him out when he lies, and is studying to become a detective, and is the only person who puts up with Kokichi no matter what. Kokichi likes Saihara a lot, sure, more than anyone else in the class, in the school, but that doesn’t mean he has a crush on him. A big, fat, gay crush, that translates into embarrassing fantasies about a detective hunting him down, and even worse ones about cuddling with him in real life, and flirting with him even when he doesn’t really mean to, and putting up with his annoying friends just to spend time with him. It doesn’t mean that he spends all his spare time thinking about him, or that he trusts him and cares for him and misses him when he’s gone. It doesn’t mean he gets jealous of pretty Akamatsu and her stupid positive attitude.  
Ha. It’s not like any of that’s true.

(Kokichi can lie to himself as much as he wants. It’s his god-given right, as a liar.)

\--

Kokichi presses the doorbell, just for courtesy’s sake, and knocks immediately after. “Hello! I’m a serial murderer, and I’m here to kill you, detective Saihara.”  
There’s no answer. He sighs, and presses it again. “Saihara-chan, it’s me, your best friend! Just kidding, it’s not Akamatsu. I bet you’d like it if it was, though.”  
Still no answer. “Saihaaaaaara-chan! I know you’re in there! I’ll give you five seconds till I knock down the door!”

The answering silence is like a spit in the face. Kokichi scowls.  
If he were a lesser man, he would take the quietness as a sign that Saihara isn’t home, or that he doesn’t want to talk to Kokichi. But Kokichi isn’t a lesser man, he’s a man with lockpicks, and so he kneels down in the middle of the street and starts picking open his best friend’s door. He hopes his uncle doesn’t get back any time soon- Saihara said he was working a case in Osaka, but Kokichi can’t imagine the detective would be particularly thrilled about coming home to find a scrawny high schooler breaking into his house.   
It’s not the first time he’s broken open this door, and it doesn’t take him long to spring the lock. Kokichi tucks his picks away again and picks up his bag, heading into the house. “I brought food!” He calls. There’s an answering shuffle upstairs. None of the lights are on down here, which is… unnerving. Kokichi doesn’t get scared, ever, but he can’t help the sense of unease creeping up his back. It’s not like… someone would break into a detective’s house, right? Other than him, of course. Violent crime doesn’t happen in nice neighborhoods like this. Not- statistically.   
He lifts his bag a little higher, closes the door behind him, and calls up again. “Saihara, I’m coming upstairs, so you better put some pants on if you’re naked. Who knows what I might do if I saw something like that! I think I’d be so shocked I’d faint.” That stream of verbal nonsense leaves him without much control on his part, and he winces as soon as he stops speaking. Another muffled sound comes from upstairs- a whine? A creaky door, maybe. Kokichi bunches up his hands and advances to the stairs with the energy of a man approaching the gallows, grim determination in the dark, quiet house.

Kokichi stops just in front of Shuichi’s door, takes in the neat placard, the scrapes at the bottom, the faded blue paint. There is no sound behind it, so he takes a breath. “You know, Saihara-chan, if I find you dead in here I’m going to be-” he pushes open the door- “So mad-”  
He barely has time to shut the door behind him before he hears a low, questioning sound echo through the room. He turns forward.

Ouma Kokichi would not describe himself as a dog person. He thinks they’re unpleasant, drooling and noisy, and stupid, with the same blind, annoying devotion that reminds him of Momota, following a person around with no idea that they’re just being a pain. He really, doesn’t like dogs, especially loud ones.   
But staring at this dog, it turns out that silent ones are considerably worse. Silent, giant dogs, and-   
That is not a dog, Kokichi thinks, as it moves forward and sniffs at his hip, as he presses himself up against the door and can’t take his eyes off it, as his heart dries up and tries to pound out of his chest at the same time. This is a fucking wolf, only they don’t have wolves in Japan, this is almost as tall for him even on its front legs, a fucking mane around its neck, its muzzle wet with spit, its ears high and pointed, its fur heavy as snow. The wolf is staring at him, and oh fuck, it probably ate Saihara, it probably killed him and ate him and now it will eat Kokichi and it’s so big, and its fur is so dark, and it’s eyes are yellow and dark and….

Kokichi knows those eyes.

“S-Saihara-chan?”

Immediately, the enormous fucking wolf lowers its upper body to the ground and its tail… its tail starts wagging, like a dog who’s just earned a treat, and it opens its mouth and makes this pleased, chuffing sound, that holy shit, Kokichi recognizes.

“You’re a werewolf?” He splutters, his mind simultaneously going _how the fuck did I not know this,_ and also _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._

Wolf-Saihara barks, and Kokichi usually hates barking, but this is a softer sound than a dog, kind of like a soft cough, a huff of sound, and then he makes a low, rumbling sound that makes Kokichi flinch, just a bit, before he bounces up onto his hindlegs and _holy shit that is a big dog._

Kokichi barely has time to shout or squirm away before wolf-Saiharais balancing on his hindlegs and-

“Oh my god, ew, gross- Saihara!” Kokichi tries to shove the wolf’s snout away from his face, but only gets licked more enthusiastically for his efforts. “EW, stop, you’re smearing my eyeliner- down! Down!”

He didn’t really expect that to work, but immediately the dog slinks back down and backs up, skittishly. Its eyes flick down to the floor, and Kokichi has never seen an animal look this embarrassed before.  
Swiping the drool off his face with his sleeve, he sighs heavily and lets his bag drop to the floor. Saihara whines. “O-okay, it’s fine, I’m not mad, just…. A little warning, next time.” Jesus. Is Kokichi really going to let a dog lick his face?  
 _If Iruma ever finds out about this I’ll kill myself,_ he decides, as he slowly sits down on the floor of Saihara’s weirdly-neat bedroom, and crosses his legs. “Stop- stop sulking, it doesn’t suit you.” Kokichi hesitates, then holds his hand out like he would for a cat, his first few fingers pressed together, offering it out like that. He’s not… really sure what the etiquette here is. How sapient is Saihara right now? He assumes there’s a loss of some inhibition, considering the….. Licking, but he definitely recognized Kokichi. Or maybe he’s just really friendly?

The question only becomes more confusing when Saihara, still looking miserable and ashamed with himself, finally stops staring at the floor and looks at Kokichi’s hand. Kokichi rubs his fingers, like he would for a cat, and immediately Saihara bounds over, and suddenly Kokichi has a lapful of giant, enormous wolf, nuzzling at his fingers and making more of those growling, chuffing sounds at him.

He laughs- he can’t help it, the entire situation is so bizarre and Kokichi deals with stress through comedy, and also it kind of tickles quite a lot. “I am going to make fun of you for this forever when you’re back to normal,” he says, and Saihara looks back up at him and whines, and then is back to sticking his furry snout all over Kokichi’s hand, and his neck and his chest and Kokichi has to close his eyes and desperately pray that Saihara and his great big dog face get bored soon.  
They don’t, actually. In fact, Saihara seems to only grow more excited, working himself up until he’s bounding around Kokichi in a circle, and let him tell you, sitting on the floor with a wolf running around like a shark and its tail bouncing everywhere really makes you feel tiny. Still, he can’t help but laugh again, and a tiny, horrible, vulnerable part of him thinks it’s endearing. 

So his like for Saihara is apparently stronger than his dislike of dogs. Kokichi figures he just has to cop that at this point. 

“Saihara-chan, slow down, you’re gonna-” one sweep of that enormous tail sends a stack of crime novels clattering to the floor. “Yeah. Okay.” Kokichi sighs and pinches his nose, because even if he’s just come to the terrifying realization that he cares for Saihara a little more than he planned to, Saihara doesn’t need to know that. 

Except that then Saihara skids to a halt and looks absolutely miserable, hanging his head and his ears drooping and his tail tucked around his feet, and- argh. Fuck. Augh. 

“Saihara-chan…” Kokichi sits up and places his hands on the wolf’s cheeks and- wow, it’s really soft. He’d felt the rest of his fur when Saihara was bouncing all over him, but that felt pretty dense and kind of rough, not at all like the silky coat of his cat. But around Saihara’s muzzle, under his chin, there’s a shorter, fluffier fur that doesn’t feel bad at all. Kokichi finds himself reaching up to scratch his ears. 

Saihara’s tail goes thump-thump-thump over the floor. It’s kind of cute. 

“Um,” Kokichi says, looking into a familiar pair of gold eyes, the wolf huffing back at him. “Well, this is exactly how I expected my day to go.”

Saihara tilts his head and whines and Kokichi is _really_ not a dog person, but it’s hard not to smile at the look on his face. Kokichi leans up and scritches the top of his head a little firmer, listens to Saihara’s tail speed up as it beats against the floor. 

“Do you… need anything? Like this?” Kokichi asks, feeling stupid even as he does. “Like… holy shit.” He pulls his hands out of that thick fur and fumbles in his pockets for his phone, pulling up google. “It’s the full moon today, _god._ ” He looks up at the wolf, who has the most sheepish expression Kokichi has ever seen on anything, human or animal. “Have you been skipping school every full moon? How the fuck did I not notice that?”

Saihara paws at the floor, and then shoves his whole body against Kokichi, in a move that would be very cute if it was his cat, and is less so when it ends up just slamming him into the carpet with a yelp.  
Immediately, Saihara seems very guilty, and is nosing around at his face, trying to nudge him up again, rubbing his muzzle all against Kokichi’s shoulders. It should be gross, and it is, kinda, but Saihara isn’t drooly, he’s just big and fluffy and he doesn’t smell as strong as dog, either- he doesn’t really smell at all, just a little musky and not at all offensive.  
(And it’s kinda nice, for someone who’s a bit touch-starved and bad with intimacy, to have someone- to have his friend pressing up close and making excited sounds. It’s kind of endearing to see Saihara so pleased to see him, unable to stop his tail from wagging even when he’s trying to be apologetic about knocking Kokichi over.)

Kokichi bunches his hands in the wolf’s fur and lets Saihara sit him up again. Then he bops his friend on the top of the head and informs him, sternly, “when you’re back to normal, we’re going to have to talk about this.”

Saihara whines, and then bounds away, jerking his head to the door.

Kokichi spends the next few hours playing around with the wolf. Saihara chases him around the house in a way that is genuinely quite scary but still a lot of fun, and he’s always careful not to hurt him, backing off as soon as he pounces, stalking Kokichi through the hallways of his house like a twisted fairytale. Then they play fetch, which Saihara seems reluctant about at first, but ends up giving in after Kokichi teases him with a pillow one too many times. It ends with Kokichi laughing so hard he can’t stand anymore at the way Saihara dives for pillows and shakes them about, and Saihara stomping off to sulk under his bed until Kokichi coaxes him out again.  
Despite how excitable Saihara is and how stupid he looks running after pillows and trying to lick Kokichi’s face, he really is quite graceful when he calms down. After he’s gotten used to having Kokichi around, the puppy-ish enthusiasm fades and he’s back to acting like… well, like he usually does, kind of reserved and thoughtful. He’s kind of dignified when he’s still, all dark black fur and gold eyes, huge and mysterious and kind of…. Well, Kokichi was thinking _majestic,_ but that sounds stupid even to him, and he’d never ever say it aloud, so he drops that thought. Still, it’s not too bad, sitting with Saihara and watching season 2 of Mob Psycho, the wolf upright like an Egyptian cat statue, his tail neatly tucked around him but still twitching whenever his favourite characters come on screen, whenever Kokichi reaches out and runs a hand through his fur. Kokichi makes omurice in the kitchen for himself, and hauls out one of the mysterious bowls of meat and blood for Saihara. He’s kind of intrigued to watch him eat, but Saihara gets skittish and drags the bowl away, and Kokichi next finds him pawing at the bath and trying to clean himself off. Kokichi then gets to experience the joy of bathing a dog, which sucks, and is only made marginally better by the fact that Saihara is very well-behaved, and has also already licked off most of the blood from around his face. He still shakes himself off onto a very unimpressed Kokichi, though, who takes the opportunity to go and steal a pair of the idiot dog’s pajamas. And then he makes a bowl of popcorn, and despite his better judgement, shares it with Saihara as they sit back down and watch some more anime, picking something a bit mindless and dumb. Kokichi sits down and Saihara sits next to him, and then makes a heavy, sighing sound, and leans down with his head in his lap. Kokichi freezes up, just for a moment, and then slowly threads his fingers through the wolf's fur.

\--

Kokichi’s not an easy sleeper, but he wakes up the next morning and realizes he’s slept all night. He blinks his eyes open, a little crusty, and shifts, only to find himself pinned down by a heavy weight.  
Naturally, he flies into a state of panic and is half a second away from violently kicking the thing ontop of him before he hears it snuffle.  
And then it all comes back, and he has to sit up. He can’t, so the best he can do is lift his head and stare downward at the pile of black laying across him, curled up close and making soft noises as he sleeps. Kokichi blinks again, manages to free one of his hands and wipes his eyes, and then, slow and sleepy, he starts patting Saihara’s back, lowering his head again and letting himself drift in the sleepy weekend feeling of being awake but free to sleep again, in and out of consciousness.  
Distantly, he registers that it’s a Thursday today, and they both have school. He ignores that, and falls asleep again, still on the floor of Saihara’s bedroom, the laptop in front of them still showing a flickering menu screen, popcorn spilled over the floor. 

The second time he wakes up, he wakes up alone, and feels oddly cold for a moment- doubly weird, because someone has draped a blanket around him. Kokichi scrubs at his eyes for a second time, not used to feeling so… comfy and tired and- well, sleeping well, in general. 

“M-morning.”

Kokichi looks up and finds Saihara sitting a few feet away, typing something on his laptop. He is, obviously, no longer a wolf. In fact, he looks so normal and familiar that for a moment Kokichi wonders if the entire day was just a fever-induced dream.  
Kokichi does not like feeling unsure of himself. He cracks a lazy smile and makes a show of stretching. “Wow, Saihara. You don’t even have the decency to tuck me into bed? Shame on you.”

“I didn’t- it’s not-” Saihara fidgets, shoving his laptop aside and looking really hesitant. “I- I wanted to! I mean, I meant to. I just… you’re a really light sleeper, and I was worried about waking you, and you looked so peaceful, so I just…” He gestures to the blanket, ears pink. 

Kokichi can’t help but stare for a long moment. Saihara stares back. Obviously, he doesn’t want to speak first. Kokichi still is not enjoying the sense of being off-kilter- he likes to know everything that’s going on, to be on top of things. This is- this is forcing him to reconsider several things he thought about reality in general, not to mention about Saihara himself, one of the only people Kokichi’s ever really trusted.

(He still trusts him, though. Logically, Kokichi knows that’s stupid. He hates being lied to. Saihara kept a secret like this- Saihara’s a _dog._ But Kokichi can’t help but feel like he’s being earnest, hate the guilty, miserable look on his face.)

He sighs, stretches again, and sits up, shoving the blankets aside to give himself a modicum more dignity. “It was pretty troublesome to deal with you.” He turns his hand over, admiring his own nails. “I’m a cat person, you know?”

“Ah…” Kokichi glances up, and immediately wishes he hasn’t. Saihara’s face is so downturned, he looks- so sad and guilty and disappointed and it’s quite possibly the worst thing Kokichi has ever seen in his life. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, Ouma.”

A shaky laugh rips its way out of his throat as he stares at those awful, awful puppy eyes. _It’s like the hat incident all over again._ “That was a lie! Obviously!” He looks away again, his heart pounding. “I can’t believe you fell for it.” He glances back over, just to make sure Saihara doesn’t look like he’s about to cry anymore, and then blanches. “Where did those come from?”

One moment, Kokichi is staring at a sad Saihara. The next he looks back, and Saihara suddenly has a pair of full-on, anime girl, cute wolfy ears, and a tail that’s thumping against the ground, and he’s smiling so bright that it’s equally hard to look at. “You don’t mind?” He asks, and he sounds so relieved and happy that it’s making Kokichi’s stomach twist in a weird way. 

“W-why would I?” This entire experience has been doing terrible things to Kokichi’s heart. He thinks he’s blushing, actually blushing, in the Most Embarrassing Moment Of His Life. “I- I love dogs! They’re my favourite animal.”

Shuichi beams, leaning forward all of a sudden and planting his hands on the floor between them, dropping his head in an odd bow. “I’m- I’m so glad, that’s so great- wow, I…. thanks, Ouma, I’m sorry if I was annoying.”

“I love dogs,” Kokichi repeats, stupidly.

“Ah- I’m a wolf, technically, but…” Shuichi sits up again, fiddling with the collar on his shirt. “I mean, I’m- Ouma, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just that…. I mean, I trust you, of course, but I could’ve gotten in trouble, and we- werewolves aren’t exactly well-liked, usually….”

Kokichi had figured that out last night, as they watched anime and he petted Saihara’s ears. He decided that, for such a major thing like this to be secret, there would have to be either very few werewolves or that they were actively hunted and culled- or both. He also figured that Saihara would have cracked and told someone at some point if there wasn’t a threat of actual danger following him-

“Have you told anyone else?” Kokichi asks, suddenly struck with a familiar but unwanted sense of jealousy. Akamatsu’s face flashes in his mind.

But Saihara shakes his head, and Kokichi can’t help but fixate on the way his ears bob as he does. “I… I was thinking about it, recently. I really wanted to tell someone, because it’s- well, my uncle’s human, and my parents aren’t in touch much, so I… I don’t really know much about myself.” The ears droop again, Saihara shifting slightly and then giving Kokichi a lonely little smile. “And I knew I couldn’t fool you forever.”

Kokichi sniffs, sticking his nose up. “I’ve been onto you since forever. I knew something weird was up, I just didn’t immediately jump to werewolf, because I’m not crazy.”

Saihara laughs, softly, ducking his head and placing a hand against his mouth. It’s so familiar, it’s like they’re in school and Kokichi’s just spun an overly dramatic lie, or they’re watching a cheesy drama and Saihara’s tickled by a joke in it. “Of course not,” he says, and then he looks up again, with the same gold eyes that Kokichi would recognize anywhere. “Don’t worry, Ouma-kun. Nobody would have figured it out with those hints. You’re still the smartest person I know.”

“As if I have much competition,” Kokichi says, crossing his arms. Saihara just laughs again, and his stomach melts.

As a liar, Kokichi has every right to lie to himself however much he wants. But even he knows when to quit. And, staring down at Saihara after he’s shifted back into being a full on wolf (you don’t mind, do you Ouma? It’s just that it’s more comfortable before and after the full moon) and has plonked himself down on Kokichi’s lap and is laying there so heavy and solid and colored like molasses, Kokichi has to admit that maybe- just maybe- he might be a little beyond a crush. Because there is no way he would let anyone else- dog or not- sit down on him and fall asleep and squash his legs and pin him so that he can’t move without waking them. Saihara is heavy and his fur is thick and nowhere near as soft as a cat’s and he keeps making these chuffing noises as he sleeps. And Kokichi hates dogs.

But he doesn’t seem to mind this one, he thinks, running his fingers through his fur.

\--

By the time Ouma has left his house with a cheerful goodbye and the promise to make fun of him forever about how he drools when he's shifted, Shuichi's emotions are so frazzled that he has to shift to a wolf again and spend a solid hour running around the backyard in circles until he's tired himself out enough to feel slightly less nervous.   
He shifts back and stumbles indoors again, and then thinks forward to his plan, pulling out his phone. His thumb hovers over the keyboard for just a few moments before he pockets it again. His uncle has enough on his plate right now, he doesn't need to be bothered by something that really, turned out fine. Ouma knows, but he won't tell, and it's a weight off his shoulders- just having someone else know, someone else who seems excited to be with him and around him, who liked him even when he was shifted and a little unrestrained and acting like a puppy. 

On the other hand, his heart is maybe going to explode.

Shuichi slides his hands down his face as he slides down a wall, until he's sprawled on the floor and hiding his red face from the rest of the world. That was embarrassing. He licked Ouma's face. He cuddled up to him and his tail wagged every time he spoke and he kept trying to keep close to him, and he was so obvious. He licked Ouma's face.  
Part of Shuichi wants to shift forever and run off into the woods and start a new life as a full-on wolf, but he does his best to rein the urge in. Ouma was.... really nice about it, in a very Ouma way. He said he liked dogs, so he probably just... thought it was normal dog affection stuff. Ugh. Really, Shuichi's dignity protests being called a dog, but it's not as if it was an inaccurate description of how he behaved yesterday. Again, he blames the moon, filling him with restless energy and a drive to find his friends and run with them and feel close to them. And Ouma, sitting and patting his ears and teasing him like everything was normal.  
 _Puppy love._  
Shuichi groans, drops his hands and stares up at the ceiling. He really likes Ouma. He really, really does, so much. And Ouma was so cool about it- he barely even freaked out, just asked question after question that seemed genuinely interested. He let Shuichi chase him, and didn't complain when Shuichi leaned against him, and he was just so- so confident, taking it all in stride and just thinking over it carefully, adding new information to the way he saw the world. Ouma is so- bizarre and strange and beautiful, color on blank paper, kindness hidden in crude words. 

Shuichi thinks to the morning before, to waking up and seeing him sleeping. He could already tell that the moon had disappeared into the sky, that the sun had swung back around. The drive to move had seeped out of him, the madness quieting, the call to sing melting into peace in the early hours. Weak sunlight blinked through his curtains, and he'd stood up and looked at Ouma. Ouma, who never looked peaceful sleeping, always looked relaxed when he was awake. Right then, he seemed to be drifting, far enough that his face was smoothed down and then creased again, his lips just parted, his eyes still, his breath coming at a steady pace.   
Shuichi had padded away, softly, before he did something stupid like shift back and kiss him. He'd grabbed a pair of clothes lying on the ground in his mouth, and had headed to the bathroom and let his bones rearrange themselves. The shift was never painful, except a few times when he was younger, or when he was going through two growth spurts at once. Now, though, it's like sinking into an old t shirt, cracking his joints, stretching a tired muscle. It just happens, swift and natural, even if the lingering pull of the moon had him struggling to keep his tail away. He stared at himself in the mirror, as he always did- like he expected something to change, or get stuck one way or the other, one ear lupine forever, half a mouth full of fangs. Everything was the same, though, as always, so he'd dressed and returned to his bedroom and tucked Ouma into a spare blanket- and had resisted the urge to pick him up and put him in his own bed.   
And then, helplessly, creepily, weird reverse-twilightly, he'd watched Ouma sleep again, fixated with the comfortable look on his face, the way he nestled into the blanket a little closer. 

Shuichi had wanted to be under those blankets so badly that it frightened him a little- the pull of those emotions, almost as strong as the moon itself. Not driving him to act, but just sitting in his chest and sinking there, heavy and tinged a little blue. 

\--

Ouma had been, predictably, really great about the whole thing. The next day Shuichi showed up to school, he found a little dog keychain clipped onto his bag midway through the day, caught Ouma's eye across the room, and smiled so much for the rest of the day that Momota had asked if he got asked out.  
They'd started walking home from school together, despite living in completely different directions, just so Ouma could ask him questions about being a werewolf (did he only turn during the moon, no, did it happen without his knowledge, not since he was a kid, did he have a really good sense of smell, unfortunately yes, did he get any bloodthirsty urges, what the hell, ouma) and they always ended up loitering a little longer, talking about other things- shows they both liked, webcomics they were following, true crime, their favourite games, what had happened at school or to Ouma's friends, and they always parted with the sense that they still had more to say.  
The thing that Shuichi had been terrified of scaring his crush away had only turned into more excuses to talk to him, and everything was really, really good.   
Which is why they had to get difficult.  
They were having lunch, Ouma and him arguing over a technicality in a game that led to some characterization disagreements, Akamatsu and Iruma both watching in amusement, Harukawa eating in silence, when Momota had showed up ten minutes late and slapped a flier on the table.

"There's a fair coming in a few weeks," he declares. "Opening night some crazy shit is going down- I heard some upperclassmen talking. There's going to be a parade with fireworks and shit, and the performance in the big top is supposedly the best one yet. They've got this weird magical vibe going on- there's a whole bunch of fortune telling and magic stalls and shit." 

"That doesn't exactly seem like your kind of thing?" Shuichi asks, tilting his head. Next to him, Ouma reaches out and grabs the flier, sliding it over to stare at it.

"The clowns any good?" He asks, turning it over suspiciously.

Momota snorts. "They're _clowns,_ so probably not."

Ouma gives him a glare that could shatter stone, and Shuichi hastily tries to distract them. "Um, why do you want to go?"

"Oh, yeah- apparently, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Crazy rides, crazy performances, and the food's meant to be really good, and opening night is the best." Momota stares them all down, fists pumped. "Come on, we've got to go! It'll be insane!"

"It does sound fun," Akamatsu says, craning her neck to stare at the flier. "Do we need to book anything in advance?"

"Just the circus show- apparently it gets wild on the opener," Momota says, practically bouncing in place. "Come on, Harumaki, don't you wanna come check it out? It'll be fun, I promise! We can all hang out and spend time together and go on a rollercoaster!"

Harukawa glances up at him, then looks sideways, bunching up one of her pigtails. "Only if you don't puke on me," she mumbles, puffing her cheeks out in the way that means she's secretly pleased.

Iruma leans back in her seat, rocking so far on its legs that Shuichi is genuinely worried she'll fall. "Pff. It looks really old-fashioned to me. It's pretty hard to impress a girl genius, you know. I bet I could make a way more fun rollercoaster if you gave me half an hour and an old truck."

"Oh, but Iruma-san, it'd be really fun if you came," Akamatsu says, her eyes sparkling, hands clasped together. "You could tell us all about how the rides work!" Immediately, Iruma turns pink and begins fidgeting with her hair. 

"W-well, I mean, if you're so d-desperate for me to come with you- I guess I could. Just to check out the shitty coasters."

Ouma finally gives up the flier, passing it over to Shuichi with a grin. "Well, I'm in. Everyone knows I like a good performance."

"Yeah, 'cos you're a drama queen-"

Shuichi tunes them out as he glances over the flier. It does look really cool, and the idea of going with his friends sounds fun- and maybe he could get alone with Ouma for a bit, go on a ferris wheel with him or through the haunted house and watch him laugh at all the actors...  
Then his eyes flick to the dates.

"Oh," Shuichi says, unable to hide the disappointment. "I can't do the opening night." 

Immediately, all of them turn to stare at him, frowning. He shifts, awkwardly, as Momota's face falls. "Bro! Why not?"

"Um, my uncle's back from Osaka then and he really wants to catch up..." Shuichi mumbles. He stares at the table, and feels Ouma's gaze piercing his side. Shuichi's uncle is in Osaka for another few weeks at least.  
It's the full moon on opening night. 

"Can't you tell him to fuck off?" Iruma asks, and earns a light slap from Akamatsu for her trouble that only serves to make her more flustered.

"W-well, I mean- I haven't seen him in ages, and I really should-"

"You need to stand up for yourself more," Harukawa says, flatly but with a note of care in her voice. "He leaves you all alone for months and expects you to abide by his schedule?"

Guilt pools in his stomach. "I just- we already planned it-"

"Guys," Ouma says, suddenly. "Lay off it. We all know Saihara-chan has weird family issues. You're going to make him cry."

Shuichi protests that, weakly, but it does get everyone to quieten down. Akamatsu smiles over at him. 

"We can go another night, right guys?"

"Oh, no." Shuichi quickly shakes his head. "Don't- don't reschedule on my account, I'll just go another time. I'm not really a carnival person, anyway, so-"

Momota shakes his head. "Nope. Second night it is. Don't worry, Saihara." And finally he sits down at the table, and proceeds to give Shuichi such a warm smile that the guilt triples in size. "It's probably overhyped, anyway."

Iruma snorts. "I'm only there for the rides, anyway. I don't care about the opening performance at all."

But Shuichi looks over to Ouma, who doesn't seem disappointed at all, because Ouma is a liar. Ouma loves performance and he loves festivals and clowns and street food, and he would love to see a special performance set on opening night.  
Shuichi bites his lip. He.... technically doesn't have to transform until the moon is full, although the urge is harder to control. He would have until midnight before it became impossible to resist- he'd just need to build up some stamina. He could do that, right? He could last until midnight. The moon doesn't control him.

"Wait," he says, trying to bury his nervousness. "I'm- I can talk to my uncle. He'll probably be home late, anyway." Momota breaks into a cheer, and Shuichi gives him a shaky smile, and even Akamatsu and Iruma are letting their own excitement show as they squeal. Harukawa just gives a slow smile, probably more proud of him standing up for himself than actually caring about the show.  
God, he is a bad friend.

Ouma's staring at him suspiciously. "I don't know, Saihara- shouldn't you really be nice to your uncle? To stop him from running off again?"

Shuichi gives him the most reassuring smile he can manage. "Don't worry," he says. "I'll be fine."


	2. full moon carnival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You’re taking quite a risk coming out tonight, aren’t you?” As she raises an eyebrow, Shuichi shrinks back, feeling like he’s being looked right through.
> 
> “I- I wanted to come with my friends,” he stammers.
> 
> She sighs, clicking her tongue. “Make sure you leave on time tonight,” she warns him, her voice dropping a little lower. Shuichi shudders. “Now, love!” Suddenly, her dark demeanor changes entirely, and she claps her hands. “You should both confess your feelings. I will not and cannot confirm that they are requited without speaking to your loved ones, but getting feelings out in the open is always the best strategy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh im sorry this took so long!!!!!!! i've been a bit busy lately and my schedule's gotten a bit fucked up. i'm going to try and get back to daily updates now, and I should be trying to post them around this time each day.
> 
> (i also was distracted by this fic and some really lovely fanart. i had to stop writing this several times to stare at it and reread the fic. so, blame them- both are linked on you've got the right to remain right here with me!)  
> more importantly: TW for animal death, starting from "Saihara has always been weird" and ending at "She just blinks up at him and purrs." (tldr saihara tries to feed his bf)

Having one of your friends know about your furry little secret is actually a huge relief, as it turns out.  
Particularly when that friend is a very, very good liar, who could convince a psychologist that they’re the one with a chronic inability to open up. Shuichi’s guilt around having to lie to his friends all the time subsided a little when there was someone to back him up, and his usual insecurities about himself faded a little when Ouma was there, comforting and reassuring and snarky all at once. Ouma never implied that Shuichi was dangerous, or less than human, or anything like that. He never joked about turning him in for experimentation, and when he called him a monster, it was with a fond tone of voice, usually accompanied by a mocking pat on the head and another comment about how not-scary Shuichi was. It’s all making him wish he told Ouma earlier, honestly. Just having someone else who can help him manage it, listen to him vent…. The fact that it’s the guy he’s been fawning over for the past three years is just a bonus.

“So can you turn one of your feet into a paw or do you have to do them all at once?”

This is the only downside.

Shuichi sighs, a little flustered. “N-no. I mean, maybe? I could maybe... but I don’t want- no!”

Ouma grins, spinning around in the desk chair. “Aw, come on! You’re trying to get better control over it, right? Just an eensy, beensy bit of transforming. One paw. Come on, it’s no big deal….”

They’re hanging out in Shuichi’s room after school, under the guise of working on their history homework together- but really, Ouma is just trying to convince Shuichi to let him watch the transformation and Shuichi is trying to pretend he isn’t a little bit flattered by the attention. The atmosphere is comfy, shrugged on like an old jacket, worn and familiar and a little faded in a nice way. Maybe there are thumbholes pressed through the fabric by Ouma’s scrabbly fingers, restless picking at the seams until his thumbs slip through.  
The metaphor is getting a little away from him- he can’t stop staring at Ouma’s hands, chipped blue polish and scraped knuckles. (Not from a fight- Ouma grazed them scaling a brick wall.)

“You already get to see me with the tail and ears,” Shuichi says, pointing upward at the ears flicking on his head. Then, “what, are you bored of them already?” He laughs as he asks it, but he is a little worried. It’s been a few weeks, and maybe Ouma’s over the initial surprise and doesn’t care anymore. Maybe he just wants to be grossed out watching Shuichi transform. Maybe he-

“Yeah,” Ouma says, rolling his eyes. “Seeing my best friend grow dog ears on a regular basis is so normal, Saihara-chan. I’m already so over it. Every time I see them I’m like ‘ew, again?’ That’s why I keep asking for you to show me.”

“Okay, okay,” Shuichi laughs, secretly relieved. Although it’s impossible to keep anything a secret from Ouma for long, and from his smirk he can tell that Shuichi was a bit worried. Possibly because of the way Shuichi’s stupid body keeps giving him away- it’s not his fault! Wolves communicate through body language just as much as through quiet chuffs or growls. He doesn’t mean to let his ears droop or his tail wag, it just… happens. And Ouma seems to think it’s hilarious- or awkward. Sometimes Ouma looks away or gets very quiet when Shuichi’s tail starts beating, despite the fact they’re just in an ordinary conversation. It’s weird, and he’d be worried, if Ouma wasn’t just like that. Sometimes he goes quiet or shifts subjects, and it’s just another part of the puzzle that makes him up.

Shuichi is the supernatural creature, and yet he doesn’t think he could find anything more interesting than Ouma. 

Speaking of, Ouma’s slumping in the chair, dragging his foot along the ground as it spins. He’s got the look on his face he gets when he wants to bring something up but is deciding the right way to do it- head tilted just a little, lips parted, eyes unfocused, brow furrowed. Shuichi waits patiently, his tail tucked around him, and is rewarded when Ouma shifts, extending a hand and admiring it.  
“Hey,” he says, casual as anything. “You sure you’re going to be good for the festival? If you transform in front of everyone it’ll be real troublesome, you know.”

The thought of making trouble for Ouma makes him wince, his ears flopping back. “I won’t!” Shuichi promises, leaning forward in his chair. “I mean- I’ll just leave a bit early, and it’ll be fine. You’ll cover for me, right? And- and I’ll make sure to exercise before we go, try and burn some of the energy.”

Ouma sighs dramatically. “Sure, if you need the help that badly. God knows you’d give yourself away if you were left to lie on your own.” He glances up from his own hand, finally, and smirks. “Just as long as you don’t ruin the performance for me. It’s the only reason I’m going, after all.”

Shuichi nods, taking the words to heart. He can keep himself under control, he’s sure of it, but his priority is making sure his friends have a good time. He especially needs to make sure nothing goes wrong during the circus performance- and that Momota stays away from the haunted house. Iruma and Akamatsu are pretty easy to please, and he gets the sense that Harukawa would enjoy almost anything as long as Momota was there. (And the rest of them too, honestly. Shuichi has the distinct sense she cares for all of them quite a lot- Momota’s just her favourite. Call it instinct.) “I’ll make sure of it, Ouma. Honest. I wouldn’t have agreed to come if I didn’t think I could do it.” He’ll leave at about eleven, give himself a good hour to get home before the urge to shift is uncontrollable. If they go at nine, that’ll give him two hours with them. That’s plenty of time, and hopefully by that point they’ll be having such a good time that they won’t leave out of pity.

“Sure, puppy.” Ouma grins over at Shuichi’s pout, then hops out of his chair and goes to sit next to him on the bed. “Aw, did I hurt your wittle puppy feewings?”

“Ouma-kun,” Shuichi says, trying to look as unimpressed as possible. “I’m a wolf.”

“Sure, sure. You’re just a big, fluffy dog.” 

Before Shuichi can protest that, Ouma reaches up and begins petting his ears, and Shuichi…. Is weak. His tail starts thumping against the bed before he can think to stop it.

Ouma laughs. He has to sit up on his knees to reach, and he stays like that even as Shuichi bows his head. His touch is pretty gentle, like Shuichi’s a small animal and not a very sturdy predator, and when Shuichi peeks up he can see his face- happy and open and enjoying himself, scratching all the right places. He’s not weirded out at all, just… so at ease and confident, no matter what.

“See?” Ouma says. “You might have a mouthful of fangs, Saihara-chan, but the moment someone starts touching your fur you just melt, like a big fwuffy puppy.”

 _No,_ Shuichi thinks, as he has to look away before his blush gets any worse, his tail still thumping away. _It’s just you._

\--

Saihara has always been weird. Some of that weirdness was explained away by him being a werewolf, though not all of it (why is Saihara so interested in him, so clever, how does he figure things out so easily, how is he so kind)- and overall, after the initial furry discovery, Kokichi decided that he knew mostly everything about Saihara now.

But Saihara is full of surprises, and apparently the knowledge of this secret comes with… tribute. 

“What the fuck,” Kokichi says aloud, staring down at the dead rabbit on his doorstep. When he’d received a frantic text from Saihara about how he’d gotten a little distracted last night while running loose in the woods or whatever he did, and for Kokichi to please not freak out and that he was very sorry but maybe Kokichi should check his doorstep?- when he’d received that text, he hadn’t been quite sure what to expect. Apparently the answer was roadkill.

Dice worms her way around his ankles and sniffs at the rabbit curiously. Quickly and gently, Kokichi uses his foot to push her back inside before she can get rabies or something. He steps out and closes the door behind him, grimacing as he looks down at it. 

It’s not super unpleasant or anything, and it’s not the first time he’s seen a dead animal, but still. It’s not like they live near a bunch of farmland or anything- thoughts of Saihara rampaging through a pet store suddenly fill his mind, and he can’t decide if it’s horrifying or funny. Maybe both. 

**you: where did you get this?**

**shumai: the nearby park!!! it’s not a pet i promise but im SO SORRY**

No punctuation. He’s probably pretty upset.

**you: so do you want to feed me or something?**

**shumai is typing….**

Kokichi holds out his phone and heads inside for his dustpan while he waits. Saihara takes his time, typing and stopping, probably deleting things, typing again. Kokichi casually scoops up the rabbit and hauls it out to the trashbins to the left of his apartment. He sets the phone on the ground as he drops it inside, and hopes that Saihara’s wolf instincts can’t sense that his present was just disresepcted.  
It wasn’t even the full moon, Kokichi thinks, frowning down at the garbage. What could have gotten controlled, careful Saihara so carried away that he felt the urge to go about murdering small, fuzzy animals?  
He looks up to the window above the trash, where Dice watches him with interest, her tail flicking curiously. Kokichi winces, setting the pan and broom down outside- he’ll hose them down later. He picks up his phone just as he receives a little ping.

 **shumai: ….Yes. Look, the wolf thing means that I have this sense of ‘pack’ I guess, and I always have an urge to look after and be close to the people in it. That’s my uncle, and my friends, and I guess because you found out, I’ve been feeling a bit like I need to look after you as much as you look after me? Like, when you’re covering for me and stuff. I’m really sorry that it manifests in this way.** **  
** **shumai: I hate hunting things.**

Kokichi stares down at his phone. He… he can’t really tell how he’s feeling. He’s not mad, obviously. Saihara’s puppy eyes come through even over text, and it’s impossible to angry at those. But he…

No. He is not getting flustered over a dead animal dumped on his doorstep. He is not endeared by this. It’s gross, and it’s sad, and it’s not at all flattering to think that Saihara’s urge to help him was so compelling that even without a full moon, he couldn’t help but try to help Kokichi out in his gross, doggy way.  
He hesitates for just a moment, thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone.

**you: hey, it’s not as if dice doesn’t bring me worse. at least it had its head.**

**shumai: But Dice is a cat!!!!!!**

**you: youre right. shes perfect and wonderful and everything she does is great.**

**you: but i guess you get a pass because you can’t help your weird babysitter instincts**

**shumai: It’s not like that! Everyone helps out equally in a pack, it’s a family, it’s not some weird- alpha boss thing.**

**you: the very idea, saihara-chan, that you would be the one in charge of our wolf pack, is laughable**

**shumai: No one’s in charge!**

**you: uh huh, sure. next time you bring tribute for your leader, try to make sure it has sugar in it.**

**shumai: I hate you.**

**you: the dead rabbit would say otherwise, darling saihara-chan.**

Kokichi snickers as he pockets his phone, heading back inside. Immediately, Dice runs up to greet him, chirruping. He scoops her up and holds her up, smiling at her cute, fluffy face. “Hello, baby,” he says, putting on his kitten voice. “You’re so cute. No rabbits for you, though. Don’t want you getting werewolf germs and turning into a person once a month.”

She just blinks at him and purrs.

\--

The night of the fair, the moon is low in the sky, round and glowing like a ripe fruit, and the summer air is sweet and full of sound. The group of friends are all dressed up, ranging from a slightly awkward Harukawa in a summer dress that suits her but she seems nervous about, to Ouma in a tight crop top with sleeves that are so long they reach his knees when his arms hang down. Even Shuichi’s forgone his usual tie/coat combo for a lighter shirt and jacket, and Iruma looks like she’s ready to hit a party right after this.

Momota skips a few steps ahead, map in one hand and phone in the other. “The performance starts in about an hour, so we’ve got time to look around now! What should we do first?”

“Haunted house,” Ouma smirks. Momota flinches, struggling to keep his voice steady as he protests.

“How about a ride?” Akamatsu, ever the diplomat, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning around the others with a sweet smile. Iruma lets out a whoop.

Shuichi glances over to Ouma, who just grins, easy and casual, like he never wanted to do anything else. “We could go to the haunted house together later, if you wanted?”

Ouma smirks, batting his eyelashes. “Aw, does Saihara-chan want to protect me from the scary ghosts? Maybe I’ll cuddle up to you if I get scared!”

“A-as if you’d be afraid of anything in there,” Shuichi stutters, staring at the ground as the others laugh at him. Ouma snuggles up to his side teasingly. 

“So you want me to protect you from the ghosts? I’ll be sure to do my best!”

“Nevermind,” Shuichi says, tugging his hat down on his head. Ouma reaches up and snatches it off.

Twirling it around his finger, he grins. “Aw, Shumai, it’s not even sunny anymore! Come on, you want to be able to see everything, right?”

Iruma groans. “Oh my god, quit flirting and just bang already. I’ve got rides I want to go on!”

“They’re not flirting!” Momota almost shouts, and Shuichi feels a sudden rise of anxiety- until Momota turns around and gives him a very obvious wink. “Saihara has way better taste than that!”

 _Thanks, Momota._

“Aw, really? Shumai, am I out of your league?” Ouma pouts, dancing circles around him as they walk. He’s clearly in a good mood, one that makes it impossible to feel too embarrassed around. 

Shuichi laughs. “You’re definitely out of my league, Ouma. I could never impress you in a million years.” It hurts a little, because it’s true, but it’s hard to feel more than melancholy when Ouma is cartwheeling through a crowd of people and then bouncing back up, full of energy and delight.

Ouma hums, crossing his arms as they walk. “Well, that’s true. Nobody can impress me. But I’d put up with you anyway, Saihara-chan.” Then he grabs Shuichi’s arm and tugs him ahead of the others, Momota shouting at them to slow down. “Come on, let’s go on the biggest roller coaster here!”

“I think they only have one,” Shuichi laughs, trying to ignore how his heart pulses when Ouma touches his arm.

The air of the fairground reminds him of a festival- the energy’s the same, full of warmth and excitement and a funny kind of hope. There’s the occasional clown or acrobat performing in between the stalls, the crowd parting naturally to watch them twist and dance and pull doves from thin air. The food is buttery and sweet and terrible for you, but they buy it anyway and it tastes like the food of the gods. Harukawa bites into a battered taiyaki like she’s eating in front of the president, her fingers covered in sticky syrup, and Ouma buries a laugh into Shuichi’s shoulder that tickles and makes him ache all at once. They see classmates, people from their school- Akamatsu bumps into one of her neighbours and talks for about five minutes before finally saying goodbye.  
The whole time, the pull of the moon sleeps under Shuichi’s skin, purring and restless but not irresistible. He keeps near Ouma, watches the way he laughs, his eyes alight as he stares at the performers, and he knows he would rather be here than running around his garden, no matter how itchy his skin feels. 

They reach the roller coaster, and they all pile in, and they scream louder than anything else. It’s weird, riding adrenaline rides while the moon calls to him, like the rush is a hundred times more powerful. Shuichi stumbles off the coaster feeling both like he’s just lifted a car off an infant and like he’s a battery about to overload with power.  
They ride it again, of course, and once more before they head off to play some fairground games, and from Ouma’s expression Shuichi must look like a dog with its head sticking out the window of a car, but he can’t bring himself to worry about it.

“Saihara-kun, come get your fortune told with me,” Akamatsu insists, dragging him over to a booth that is filled with a line of girls queuing up. The others move over to a shooting game that Harukawa absolutely decimates. It’s nice, hanging out with Akamatsu, although the moon would prefer they kept to a group. She’s funny and nice, and they whisper observations about the other people who walk by, make guesses about each other’s fortunes.

The second they sit down together, the fortune teller says, “ah, it’s so nice to see a close pair of friends like this.” They must look confused, because she goes on to add, “so many friends have hidden animosity between them, or feelings of tension or romance. It really is nice to see people who just care about each other, plain as anything.”

Akamatsu beams over at him and reaches over to squeeze his hand.

The fortune teller pulls out a crystal ball and spreads a collection of cards around it. “Of course,” she says, “you both have secrets, but who doesn’t? You needn’t feel pressured to share them, but you also shouldn’t worry too much.” She glances up from the ball and smiles, and the moon seems reflected in her eyes. “I doubt the other will judge you too harshly.”

Shuichi swallows back a rise of questions, flexing and unflexing his hands under the table. Akamatsu seems similarly a little nervous, shifting slightly.

“Now, what would you like to know? School, the safety of those secrets- love, I assume?” She sits back. 

They glance at each other, then back to her, and they both nod.

“Lovely. Let’s see… you’re both capable students, I don’t see any reason that should change. You, however-” she points at Shuichi, “you work too hard. You can afford to ease off a bit- going above and beyond for everything won’t get you a more than perfect mark. You’re doing too much. And you…” Now she points to Akamatsu, as if she hasn’t just peeled Shuichi open and revealed some of his bigger insecurities and destructive habits. “You need to stop trying so hard for other people! Your classmates performance does not reflect on you. You’re doing well, but that doesn’t mean you need to immediately focus on someone who isn’t. You can’t fix every problem, so please stop trying. It only causes more worry.  
Shuichi and Akamatsu sit in silence, mouths open. He looks over to her, and she looks at him, and then they share a set of sheepish smiles.  
The fortune teller tuts. “Youth. I doubt you’ll listen to me, though. Now, secrets-” she points to Akamatsu. “You’re perfectly safe, but you _should_ tell your friends. Their reactions will not be anywhere near like you feared.” Shuichi only has a few seconds to feel worried about that, before the fortune teller turns to him. “And yours is… well, it was recently discovered, but it’s safe in that person’s hands. You’re taking quite a risk coming out tonight, aren’t you?” As she raises an eyebrow, Shuichi shrinks back, feeling like he’s being looked right through.

“I- I wanted to come with my friends,” he stammers.

She sighs, clicking her tongue. “Make sure you leave on time tonight,” she warns him, her voice dropping a little lower. Shuichi shudders. “Now, love!” Suddenly, her dark demeanour changes entirely, and she claps her hands. “You should both confess your feelings. I will not and cannot confirm that they are requited without speaking to your loved ones, but getting feelings out in the open is always the best strategy.” 

Akamatsu laughs shyly, pulling at her hair. “Ah, but it’s- it’s a bit complicated-”

The fortune teller sweeps the cards away without turning any of them over. “If you think it’ll be complicated dating a friend, then you should stop making friends with everyone in your class. I don’t know what to tell you, there.” She glances up from the cards and smiles. “Now, I think you should get back to your friends. I think they’re missing you.”

“Thanks,” Shuichi says, standing up awkwardly. He feels significantly more restless than he did before he came in, but the fortune teller smiles at him.

“Don’t worry so much,” she tells him. “Enjoy yourself. You’re in control.”

Somehow, it makes him feel better. He nods, smiling back at her. “Thanks,” he repeats, as she shoos them out of the tent.

They step back out into the night sky, and the sense of mystery hangs around them.

Finally, Akamatsu speaks up. “I didn’t really feel like she could see the future. I felt more like she was a therapist who could also read my mind.”

Shuichi laughs, wheezing slightly. “Ah, that made me so nervous.” He looks at her as they step out into the crowd, smiling softly. “Are you going to tell me who your crush is?”

She sticks her nose in the air. “I already know who yours is, so nope! You can’t barter with me, here.”

“What- that’s not fair! And… how do you know?” Shuichi can feel his face turning red as she laughs at him, tucking her hair back.

“Come on, Saihara, you’re not exactly subtle,” Akamatsu teases him, nudging their shoulders together. “You look at Ouma like he’s your favourite book. Like you want to spend all day reading him.” She pauses. “That wasn’t an innuendo.”

“I- Akamatsu!” He splutters, and she just laughs again, reaching up to mess with his hair. It takes everything in him not shift and let his tail start wagging.

“Hey, guys! How’d it go?” Momota runs up to them, the others close behind, his arms fall of cheap plastic trophies and stuffed animals, Harukawa by his side looking quietly pleased with herself. 

Akamatsu and Shuichi share a glance, and then give them twin, innocent smiles. “That’s a secret,” Akamatsu says. 

Iruma groans. “That’s such a cop-out. Come on, was it real?”

“Shumai!” Shuichi stumbles back as Ouma throws himself at him, arms wrapping tight around him. “I missed you!”

Trying really, really hard not to let the tail start wagging. Shuichi wraps his arms around Ouma in turn, laughing- he’s in too good a mood to stand around awkwardly, the moon too close not to hug him back. “I missed you too,” he says, beaming at Ouma, and Ouma grins back. Then he looks up at the others, and he grins at them too, surrounded by his pack, safe and close and out under the moon. It’s everything he wants.

Akamatsu gives him a sly smile that makes his cheeks go pink, and then she bites her lip. “Okay, well- I guess I just got advice about this, so, um. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys.” They all turn to her expectantly, and she draws in a breath, looking more nervous than Shuichi’s ever seen her. “I’m going to….I’m going to be in Europe over the holidays. Performing a few recitals.” She lowers her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I just- I felt really bad about not being here, and-”

“Akamatsu-san, that’s amazing!” Momota bursts out, almost dropping his armful of prizes as he rushes over to hug her, one arm balancing his knick-knacks and the other tight around her waist as he lifts her up. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Congratulations,” Harukawa says, giving one of her incredibly rare smiles. “That’s truly impressive, Akamatsu-san.”

Akamatsu looks flustered, her cheek squished into Momota’s hair. “You’re not mad that I’m going to be away?”

“Dumbass,” Iruma says, fondly. “That’s not your fault. And we can call over the internet and stuff- I can make us devices to talk, or sync up clocks or something- we could build a virtual house where we all have avatars we can talk with and stuff, and-”

“Oh my god, pig, let the pianist have her moment without ruining it with your nerd talk.” Ouma steps away from Shuichi to stick his tongue out at Iruma, who shrieks in protest.

Shuichi smiles over at his friend. “Akamatsu-san, I’m so pleased to hear that. You really deserve it.”

She goes even pinker, looking away. “Thanks, Saihara,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Momota insists, finally releasing her. “Now, shall we go to the ferris wheel?”

“Absolutely not,” Ouma insists, grabbing Shuichi’s arm again. “I’m going to go get Saihara-chan to win me some prizes. Saihara!” He points a finger up in Shuichi’s face, his voice commanding. “I want twice as many presents as Momota-chan has. I need you to show up Harukawa for me.”

“Do you wanna die?” Harukawa asks, her smile completely dropping away. Shuichi winces.

“O-Ouma, I don’t think I could do that, even if I tried really hard- I don’t have the money for that many games. But we can play some, if you like?”

Ouma stares at him. “Stupid, you don’t have to pay. I just need to use your superpowered-” a sly smile here “arms to get me the best presents.”

Shuichi flushes, biting his lip. True, he’d probably be stronger with the moon so close, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to be more accurate, and fairground games are rigged, and he’s pretty sure that Harukawa could destroy him at literally anything, even if he were fully shifted. But more importantly- “But if you pay for them, they’re not presents?”

“They’re presents because you’re getting them for me.” Ouma explains, like he’s talking to a toddler. “Come on, please, just one giant stuffed animal. Please? I’ll throw a stick for you. Let me have this, Saihara!”

A few feet behind him, Shuichi hears Iruma turn to the others and whisper “let’s just go to the ferris wheel and leave them to their weird gay courting,” so uncharacteristically quiet that he doesn’t think he would have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced senses. He turns bright red anyway as Ouma bounces in place.

“O-okay,” he agrees finally, and he lets Ouma drag him over to a game. The stall minder grins over at them in a friendly way. The game looks like a purely strength based game, which is probably rigged in some way. 

Ouma looks at him expectantly, and Shuichi flushes again. He’s aware he doesn’t exactly look like he’s got much muscle to him- which is true. He’s always been scrawny, no matter how much he trains with Momota and Harukawa, and his slender face and dark eyelashes don’t help.  
Shuichi takes a breath. He just needs to… tense his arms, call up a bit of adrenaline. No shifting required (wolves do not have forearms or opposable thumbs. Trying to mess with his muscles too much could have _bad_ consequences.) The moon hangs above him, a shiny target, a mother’s face, a comforting presence urging him on. 

He picks up the hammer as energy crawls up his spine. The moon winks. Shuichi thinks about Ouma, about how much he wants to impress him, wants Ouma to like him as much as Shuichi does.  
He brings it down thinking about Ouma’s smile, his eyes crinkles, the soft curve of his cheeks, and he doesn’t even hear the ding of the meter.

“....holy shit.”  
Shuichi drops the hammer and turns around, staring at Ouma. His eyes are wide, and for a horrifying moment, Shuichi worries that he’s scared, before he breaks into a bright smile. “Oh my god, Saihara, that was brutal! You never told me you could do that!”

 _Because you figured it out yourself,_ Shuichi thinks, but he smiles, looking back to the flustered stall-holder. “Um, how many points is that?”

Wordlessly, they gesture to the stack of prizes. Shuichi looks over at Ouma, who’s grin spreads into a smirk. He points up.

Shuichi follows his finger, then resists the urge to sigh. “Um, could we get the… the wolf toy?”

“The big one,” Ouma cuts in. “Not the tiny keychains.”

The stall owner drags over a chair and clambers up, pulling the enormous stuffed animal down and passing it over. “Um… enjoy your night, sirs,” they say, nervously. Shuichi feels a bit guilty, so he slides over another few notes after the initial pay for his turn.

“Oh, I plan to,” Ouma crows, squeezing a toy wolf that’s half the size of him and all fluffy grey fabric.

As they walk away from the booth and back to rejoin their friends, Shuichi turns to him, fond and exasperated all at once. “I can’t believe you actually picked that.”

“Of course, I love dogs,” Ouma says idly, playing with the plushy’s ears. 

“I guess…” Shuichi blinks, as he thinks about it. Ouma owns a cat. Ouma never talks about dogs. Ouma actually winces away from them when they get too close, and has made several comments about slobber that hurt Shuichi’s feelings before he was aware of… things. “Wait, no you don’t.” He stops walking, actually, so surprised by this revelation. “You hate dogs.”

Ouma looks equally surprised, staring back at him. Then he recovers, sighing and looking back down to the toy, stroking the fluffy fur down. “I don’t hate them,” he says. “I just think a lot of them are gross and distasteful.” Shuichi can feel his own face falling- if his ears were out, they’d be drooping. Before he can feel too miserable, though, Ouma looks up again, sharply. “Oh, don’t pout, you big puppy, you’re fine. You don’t… drool everywhere or bark. You’re pretty well behaved.”

“Oh.” Shuichi blinks. “Um, thanks?”

“No problem.” Ouma says it casually, and then he breaks into another grin. “Come on, let’s go catch up with the others. I have to rub this in Harukawa’s face- even she couldn’t get the top score on this game.”

“Please don’t,” Shuichi moans, hurrying after him.

They reach the others, loitering around a food stall by the ferris wheel, and the smile on Ouma’s face grows wide and dangerous as he lifts up the toy wolf.  
Shuichi is saved, though, by Momota, who he now owes a life debt to. “Hey!” Momota says, excited as anything. “The performance is starting soon, in the circus. Let’s go and grab our seats.”

Ouma blinks. He slowly lowers the plushy and shrugs. “Sure, whatever.” Even if Shuichi wasn’t a wolf, he likes to think that he would have noticed the twitch of Ouma’s shoulders, the moment of excitement that gives him away. 

“Nice dog, Ouma,” Iruma snickers as they all start moving toward the big top. 

“It’s a _wolf,_ ” he tells her, imperiously. “Not that you’d know the difference- your brain’s so full of dirt that it’s a miracle you can even talk.”

They bicker the whole way to the circus tent, and Shuichi does his best to pretend he isn’t hopelessly endeared by it. Akamatsu hands in their tickets, and Shuichi checks the time, takes a moment to monitor how he’s feeling. It’s ten now, the performance should last half an hour. He’ll probably leave after that.

Winking, Iruma makes a big deal of wanting to sit by Harukawa in case a clown tries to get her, leaving the seat next to Ouma open as Shuichi shuffles over and sits in it, face flushed. It’s hard to stay embarrassed, though- the air in the tent is electric. All of them are murmuring to each other, passing around bags of candy floss and hot fries and more taiyaki because Harukawa apparently developed a taste for it. And nobody seems more alive than Ouma, who gets Shuichi to hold all his food so that none of it drips on his wolf, who is leaning forward, animatedly, who starts talking about the history of circus performance, and clowns, and the uncanny valley, and how acting was developed as a social thing super early in human history and- he’s so enthusiastic, barely hiding it behind his usual act of haughty indifference. 

“-and isn’t it weird how masks are such a big thing in so many cultures? Like, they used ‘em in Greece, and they used them in Kabuki, and - shut up, Saihara, it’s starting.” Ouma shakes him almost violently, and Shuichi spills skittles all over his lap, and the lights dim and Momota whoops excitedly, and the show begins.

It’s… as amazing as it was described. It’s vibrant and bright and creative. The clowns, wearing beautiful, dramatic facepaint and elegant jester’s outfits tumble and perform magic tricks that would make even Yumeno impressed, and the acrobats swing from great heights while fireworks burst behind them. There’s a great pack of elegant white dogs who perform a series of tricks, poodles that carry each other on balls, a ringleader who gets routinely shoved over by his own clowns, a knife thrower and a magician with a hilarious rivalry. The stunts get more and more impressive and the tricks more and more magical, and the whole thing is… breathtaking. An enormous glass bowl of water gets wheeled onstage and they watch what Shuichi is pretty sure are actual real mermaids dance and sing.

It’s amazing. It feels like they’ve stepped into another world. It’s a shame that Shuichi spends half the time staring at Ouma. 

When it finally ends with a series of fireworks and a trick that drags every performer onstage for the final bow, Ouma gets on his feet and yells as he applauds. Shuichi grabs the plushy and hugs it to his chest with his elbows, clapping a little awkwardly, and Ouma whistles and screams and claps with his hands above his head. He looks so passionate, so thrilled, his face slightly flushed and set with energy, and Shuichi knows in that moment that it was worth everything to make sure they could come tonight. 

They spill out of the tent with all the other circus-goers, Ouma snatching back the toy and gripping it tight, still riding a high that Shuichi has never seen in him before. 

“My favourite part had to be the mermaids,” Akamatsu sighs. “They were so beautiful, and the song was so lovely. It was just- wow, that was the moment when I really felt like it was all magic, you know?”

“I liked the knife thrower,” Harukawa says, quietly. “She was incredibly skilled.”

“You’re all crazy,” Iruma says, throwing up her hands. “The ringleader was fucking hilarious. You’ve gotta be a good guy to let yourself get tossed around by a bunch of clowns like that.”

“Ouma seemed to enjoy himself, huh?” Momota grins, slinging his arms around Harukawa and Akamatsu’s shoulders, one of them laughing and shoving him lightly and the other looking quietly pleased. 

Ouma sticks his nose in the air. “It was the only decent thing we’ve done this entire night.”

“Yeah, right,” Iruma says, snorting. “You were losing your fucking mind.”

“Good performers deserve good applause,” he says. “I was simply honoring that.”

Akamatsu pouts, teasingly. “Aw, Ouma-kun! You’ve never done that at one of my performances.”

“I wonder what that says about you?” Ouma replies, airily, and Akamatsu gasps and slips away from Momota to go and shake him. He darts away, laughing, and runs in a circle around the whole group (inconveniencing everyone around them) before hiding behind Shuichi, holding up the plushy defensively. “Shumai! Protect me!”

Shuichi laughs, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m sorry, Akamatsu, I can’t abandon a friend in need.”

“Yeah, _sure,_ ” she says, but she doesn’t seem angry at all, smiling from ear to ear.

As they slip away from most of the crowd, Shuichi pretends not to notice how Momota still has his arm around Harukawa, and how she’s helping carry his bundle of prizes.

“What next?” Harukawa asks, giving them all a glare like she’s daring them to point it out.

Shuichi smiles apologetically, pretending to check the time on his phone. It’s 10.46. “Sorry guys, I think I might head back soon.” They all chorus in disappointment, and his heart twinges. “I know! I’m sorry, I’d just like to try and catch my uncle before he goes to bed.”

“Fuck that!” Momota says hotly. “We haven’t even been on all the rides yet! Come on, Saihara, live a little!”

“I- I know, but. You guys can still go on them! I hope you do. Take pictures for me and stuff.”

“Oh my gosh,” Akamatsu says, suddenly. “I haven’t been taking any pictures! Hold on, let me get one now. Shuichi, you can’t leave, I need more to put on my pinboard.”

Iruma leans up against a nearby trashcan, crossing her arms. “Come on, twink. It’s still early- just stay out a bit longer.”

Harukawa nods, stiffly. “You should not let your family dictate your life.”

“Guys-” Shuichi looks about, a bit desperately. He glances over to Ouma for help.

Ouma stares up at him, his face oddly blank, and then looks away, quickly. “It’ll only take you twenty minutes to get home,” he says, his voice carefully measured. “As long as you get home before midnight, you should be okay, right?”

“I really don’t want to push it,” Shuichi says, quietly.

Ouma huffs, leaning his chin on the top of the plushy. “Just another half hour, come on, Shumai. Don’t you wanna take me to the haunted house?” He looks up again, this time pulling a pair of tragic, watery eyes. 

That’s just playing dirty.

Shuichi sighs, running a hand through the back of his hair. “Fine, just- just another half hour, okay?”

Immediately, all his friends cheer again, like they’ve just watched another brilliant circus performance.

Ouma throws the plushy in the air and catches it again, then gives a little spin. "Ghost time! Ghost time! Are you suuure you don't want to come, Momota?"

Momota winces. "N-no thanks. But it's not fair that you get to monopolize all of Saihara's time! Me and him are going to go on the helter-skelter and then you can go to the h-haunted house."

"It's not my fault he likes me more than you," Ouma says sweetly. Momota looks like he's ready to start a fight over that, so Shuichi quickly steps in.

"Ouma, I'll meet you at the haunted house in a bit, okay?" Shuichi smiles over at him as Momota punches the air in victory. Ouma shrugs.

Iruma moves over and ruffles his hair. "Aw, Ouma, it's okay. You can be an honorary girl and come on the teacups with us."

"I'll kill you," Ouma says flatly. She pulls her hand back, sharply. "And if any of you puke on me, I'll kill you again."

"Great, see you guys soon!" Momota is already pulling him away, and all Shuichi can do is shrug and give them an encouraging smile.

Hanging out with Momota is just as great as hanging with Akamatsu. They have a really easy dynamic- Momota drawing Shuichi out of his shell, Shuichi being the voice of reason. The climb the spiral stairs up the slide and chat the whole way- about school, training, their friends, the perfomance, and eventually, romance.

"Harukawa-san definitely likes you, Momota," Shuichi says, smiling fondly at his friend. Momota lets out a frustrated sigh, sliding his hand up the rail. 

"I mean, sometimes I think so, but I- I really don't want to make her uncomfortable, you know? I mean, I want to pull her out of her shell, but I don't want that to be... tied to a relationship, I guess. I don't ever want her to feel like she can't rely on me or tell me something, and if we were in a relationship and things got weird- I dunno! I just worry that she wouldn't tell me." He huffs.

Shuichi thinks about it for a moment. "Well, I think Harukawa knows that, really. I think she likes you because... you're the sort of person who's always reliable. No matter what." For the second time that night, Shuichi feels a twinge of guilt. If he told Momota- if he told Akamatsu- if he told any of them, he knows that they'd be nothing but supportive. Momota would have a pep-talk ready in seconds, confident and assured and enthusiastic. "And I think she likes that you treat her like you treat the rest of us. I'm sure she'd appreciate it if she knew that you.. you know, like her and think she's pretty and stuff." He can feel his face heating up. God, he's bad at this.

"I guess," Momota says, a goofy grin spreading over his face. "She really is pretty, huh?" Then he shakes his head. "Still, I think I'll wait for her to make the first move. She seems like the kind of girl who's confident enough to do that."

"Momota," Shuichi sighs. "She's probably waiting for you to do it." 

"What? No! Harukawa's always straightforward with what she wants."

Not with you, Shuichi thinks, and he holds back a frustrated sigh. Momota grins at him apologetically.

"I'm probably talking your ear off about this, huh? What about you? How are things with Ouma?"

"Momota-kun, I'm more than happy to listen and- wait, what?" Shuichi stops walking, almost bumping into the person behind him. "W-what about Ouma?"

Momota laughs and grabs his arm, guiding him up the stairs. "Come on, even I'm not blind enough to miss it." He pauses. "Okay, Harumaki told me, but still. You've got it bad for him."

"I- I do not," Shuichi stammers. He then bites his lip, looking up at Momota nervously. "And that's.... okay with you?"

Momota stops, and frowns, and then steps to the side so that people can keep climbing ahead of them. He plants a hand on Shuichi's shoulder, staring at him intently. "Bro," he says. "You know I don't care who you're into, right? Whoever you want to love... that's good with me. You're my sidekick. You're one of the most important people in my life, and no matter what you wanna do in bed-"

"Oh my god, no," Shuichi stutters, because he cannot believe he's getting the it's okay to be bi speech from Momota of all people (who is definitely not straight himself, god) in the middle of the stairs up to a slide in absolute earshot of everyone around them. He doesn't think he's ever blushed more. "I just meant that- that you guys don't like each other very much."

Momota stares. Then he laughs, and claps Shuichi's shoulder again. "Dude, I might think Ouma is an annoying little brat, but that doesn't mean I hate him. He's like a... a little brother, you know? You think they suck at times, and they drive you crazy, but... he's fine, when he's not being a little shit. It was fun seeing him enjoy himself at the circus."

A smile slips over Shuichi's face. "Yeah, it was."

"See?" Momota nudges his arm, then directs them back into the queue of people climbing the stairs. "You've got it so bad, dude."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, though, how's it going? I reckon you should just ask him out. He's always clinging to you and trying to get your attention and stuff."

Shuichi sighs. They're nearing the top now. "I don't know, I just... he might just want to be friends. And that's fine, you know? It's enough for me."

"I know how you feel," Momota nods, grabbing a mat for them. "Not worth risking something as important as that." 

"Yeah." Shuichi smiles over at him as they clamber on the mat- him first, and Momota behind him, holding tight to his shoulders.

The worker grins down at them. "Alright," they say. "Hold on tight!"

Shuichi barely has time to nod at them before they're shooting down the slide, hollering as it loops and circles the tower. Momota is laughing hysterically behind him as Shuichi grips onto the mat and they spin down, shrieking like children.  
It's about halfway down that Shuichi notices that his claws are hooked into the mat.  
He has a moment of panic that only makes them dig in harder, and he can feel the teeth sharpening in his mouth, and his shouting has dropped from excitement into genuine fear. Shuichi squeezes his eyes shut, tries to calm his heart. It's fine. He's here. He's human. He just can't forget himself.  
Slowly, his teeth die back, his claws slip into his fingernails. Shuichi keeps a tight grip on the mat, breathing heavy as they slide out of the tunnel and into the summer night.

"That was so coo-" Momota doesn't get to finish his sentence before Shuichi's dragging him away, heart choking in his chest. They manage to slip away before any of the carnival assistance can notice the rips in the mat.   
They walk over to the teacups to meet the girls, because Momota isn't getting anywhere near the haunted house, and they talk and it's still nice, still comfortable, but Shuichi can't focus on any of it. It's a relief to see that Ouma has already left, that he just needs to wave to the girls and head over to the haunted house without talking further. His heart is still pounding. He's just going to tell Ouma that he needs to leave soon, that he needs to get out of here, and it'll be fine. It'll be fine. He just needs to-

"Hey!" Ouma waves him over with a wide smile, still holding the wolf toy tight. His hair is sticking up everywhere, his eyes dilated, a purple butterfly painted on his cheek. "Took you long enough."

All the explanations drain away from Shuichi as he stares at him. "You- you got your face painted."

Ouma tilts his head to the side, ushering Shuichi into the line. "I asked for a bullet wound, but she didn't do those. So, butterfly." He snorts. "Iruma got cat whiskers and she looks ridiculous. Did you see her?"

"I- I might've, yeah." Ouma's voice is so comforting- the way he tilts his head and smiles, looks at Shuichi like he's stupid and brilliant all at once. "Um. You excited?"

Ouma laughs. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I expect it to be pretty decent, if the circus performance was anything, but these things always rely too much on jumpscares, and those never get me."

Shuichi, feeling pretty antsy already and with his senses heightened to inhuman levels, can't quite agree.   
But he doesn't say anything. He just lets himself fall into the easy banter with Ouma as they approach the house, lets himself get distracted by the way Ouma's eyes look black in dim light, the way his mouth moves, how close he is. Every time their shoulders rub together, he feels electric.

Ouma pays for their entry and they step inside. 

For the first few rooms, everything is fine. The house is dark, little red lights twinkling ahead, guiding them on, and they're met with animatronics and actors that get startlingly close but never touch, water dripping from the ceiling that makes Ouma complain and cover the toy as best as he can. The atmosphere is definitely creepy, an ancient, musty feel to the air. It's colder in here than it was outside, and they walk past a flickering television and a corpse that doesn't move, just stares up at them, mouth dripping with blood, until they're both squirming, arms linked tight as they cross to the next room. More jumpscares, clever costumes, a doll in a rocking chair, a girl in a tattered dress swaying, unmoving, as they're forced to walk towards her until the lights flash and she screams.  
It's all fine. Shuichi jumps and squeaks and Ouma laughs at him, and his heart is pounding but in a good way.   
Things go downhill sharply when they step into a long hallway. 

They get about halfway down the hallway before the light guiding them forward disappears. They both stop.

"Huh," Ouma says, glancing around. He turns, and then points. "Oh, it's behind us now."

Shuichi turns with him, and then the door behind them crashes open and a man wielding a knife steps out and screams.

He knows it's an act. He knows it's not real. He knows that, and any other time, he would simply shriek and grab Ouma's hand and run.  
But the moon is full, and he's bristling with energy, and Shuichi won't let anything hurt Ouma.

Something about the sense of being chased makes him rise up, angry and defensive and panicked- it gets to him, sinks its teeth into his hide, and before Shuichi can control it- he should be able to control it, he should have had more time- he's shifting, as the man with the knife charges forward and Ouma starts to run and then stops, and then he's on four legs and his muzzle is open and his mouth is full of fangs.  
Shuichi pushes forward, shoves Ouma against the wall and practically rolls him onto his back, and then he runs. He runs before he can even register the sound of surprise, before he can hear the man shout and drop his knife, before Ouma has his hands fisted in his fur, but it's okay, because Shuichi won't drop him, will never drop him.

A boy and a wolf burst out of the back of the haunted house and sprint through the fairground, carving through the people around them. He can feel Ouma's stuffed animal pressed against his back, his face hidden in its fur, and Shuichi can't stop, because there are people here, and he's not safe, not safe-

They burn through the fair like a fire until they get behind a tent, away from people, safe, no one staring, just a section of empty fairground and Shuichi's heart is pounding and he can't breathe-

"-mai. Shumai. Shumai, calm down. It's okay." 

Ouma's hands aren't gripping to his fur anymore, they're patting it, stroking his haunches as he paces around, scratching behind his ears. Shuichi lets out a whine and slows down. The toy fell a few feet away, so he hurries over and noses it upright. Ouma grabs it and lifts it up again, but his other hand keeps patting.

"You good, Shumai?" He asks. Shuichi huffs in response, and Ouma laughs, because Ouma always laughs, because Ouma is always in control, even when no one else can keep it together. "Okay," he says. "I'm gonna get off you now, alright?" Shuichi's first instinct is to shake his head, but he pushes it aside, lowers himself to the ground and lets Ouma slide off and stumble to his feet.

Shuichi turns to stare up at him, and Ouma calls him a dog but he really feels like one now, disobedient and bothersome. 

But Ouma- puzzling, tricky Ouma, bites his lip and looks down. "I'm sorry," he says, and it- it sounds like he means it, his voice a little tight. "I should have let you go home."

Immediately, Shuichi pads over and bumps his head against Ouma's hip, frowning up at him and chuffing softly. It's not his fault. Shuichi can make his own bad decisions.

Ouma stares down at him, jaw tight. "Alright," he decides. "Do you think you can shift back?" Shuichi shakes his head- he doesn't even need to try to know it's not going to work. Ouma sighs. "Okay. Shit. Alright, Shumai, stay close, okay? I'm gonna get us out of here." Ouma glances around. "We'll head to the park nearby, alright? We can stick it out in there."

There's no time to protest before Ouma is grabbing the scruff of his neck in one hand and the toy in the other, and he's being marched forward.   
_What are you doing,_ Shuichi thinks, as they walk through a crowd of people, as everyone turns to stare. _This is it,_ he thinks. This is it. And it's his fault, he's just sorry for every other werewolf he's managed to screw over by getting himself caught in a capital city in the middle of summer at a very famous fair.

"Sorry, everyone!" Ouma says cheerfully, patting Shuichi in a very demeaning way. "We're just setting up for our next performance and _someone_ got a little too excited about all the people." He laughs, nudging Shuichi forward as he walks. "Come on, boy. He's harmless, really, just a big fluffy puppy. Stagefright, is all."

Shuichi stares up at Ouma with all the dignity and anger he can muster. 

But then the crowd bursts into murmurs and there are kids rushing forward to ask if they can pat him, being very gently shooed away by Ouma, and Ouma is waving at other staff members like he knows them, with such confidence that they wave back before blinking in confusion. Ouma advertises where they can win the wolf plushies, tells attendees that his name is Fang, and somehow, slowly, manages to walk them all the way to the fair's exit without getting stopped. 

The second they're out of there they bolt, right over to the park's natural reserve and walking trails. They hightail it, Ouma climbing up onto his back and gripping the toy tight as they fly over the ground, and laughing hysterically.

"I've wanted to do this since I first saw you shift!" He yells over the wind, laughing again. If Shuichi could talk, he would tell Ouma that he'd carry him over any distance, anywhere.

They finally come to a stop, deep into one of the walking trails, and Ouma lets out a heavy sigh and slips off his back. He stumbles over to sit under a tree, and then pats his lap. Shuichi doesn't have the heart to do anything but pad over and flop down in it, but he still looks up, accusingly.

"I know," Ouma says. "You want me to go back. But I'm not leaving you when you can't talk yourself out of it- even if you were human, you couldn't." He snorts. "Also, please just let me live one of my dramatic childhood fantasies about sleeping in the woods with a big animal to protect me." 

Shuichi's not sure. His ears droop as he thinks about it- Ouma cold and sitting out here, because of him. Ouma smiles and scratches his ears.

"Of course," he continues, "in most of my fantasies it was a tiger, or something like that. But I guess a wolf is pretty good, too." He pulls out his phone as he keeps petting Shuichi, typing a text quickly. "I'm telling them that something crazy happened and we dipped. I'll figure out a story based on their reactions and let you know." 

Shuichi huffs and stands up, nudging between Ouma and the tree, then laying down behind him. If Ouma's staying out here in that stupid, breezy top, he might as well be warm. 

Ouma sighs and leans back against him. They're both quiet, letting the anxiety cool off from them. Shuichi has so many apologies he wants to say, but he'll have to save them for tomorrow.

"Saihara, I-" Ouma pauses. "This was pretty fun."

Shuichi huffs again, but if he were human, it would be a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love circuses. i love live performance. i live for that shit.
> 
> ALSO: i've made a tumblr! it's also @unseeliekey and I might be posting very small drabbles there occasionally. feel free to send requests there but be aware i may not get to them immediately!

**Author's Note:**

> me: no but im basically practicing my writing. writing 70k words of danganronpa fanfic is practice and good for me  
> my dad: you could be working on your actual novel  
> me: but look! im writing about werewolves! it's good practice to explore an idea!  
> my dad: you could be exploring that idea... in the context of ur own character who is a werewolf  
> me:  
> me: but look at the cute art
> 
> (ugh my dad doesnt UNDERSTAND me i do not control the hyperfixation. anyway i love werewolves and softcocoa's oumasai is..... so s oft...... i was compelled ok)


End file.
